Mumblings and Musings
by oodlesofdoodles
Summary: Oneshot. Arthur trying to cook a dinner for a pregnant Ari...Isn't really about mumblings and musings but there's a lot of them in here. Any ideas for a better title are appreciated!


She sat and waited, grinning to herself as she heard loud banging noises and curses coming from the kitchen. His ridiculous obsession in making sure she wasn't over-exerting herself drove her hormone ruled mind crazy at times, but for right now it was a source of amusement.

"Jesus fu-"

"Hey! Watch your language! You're going to have to soon so might as well start practicing now!" she called to the kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She heard him mumbling to himself, and more bangs and clashes, and finally a large sigh of defeat.

"Where did you put the colander?"

"It's in the cupboard next to the sink," she calls out, mumbling to herself, "where it's been for a while."

"What did you say?"

Damn him and his freakishly good hearing. It had been helpful in various situations but when they weren't in a dream, it mainly served to annoy the hell out of her.

A loud clang, with an angry curse broke her out of her ponderings. She listened carefully but all was quiet in the kitchen. Sighing she pulled herself up off the couch and made her way down the hallway. She arrived at the kitchen doorway and leaned against it, crossing her arms and chuckling.

He sat there on the floor, soaking wet, pasta somehow clinging to his head, but most of it all over the floor along with a pot load of water. He glared at it as if it was his worst enemy, and she saw that he had slipped on some spilled pasta sauce.

"Are you going to sit there all night having a staring contest with the spaghetti or are you going to get up and help me clean up this mess?" she asked, a smirk on her face. He shot her a quick glare before slowly getting up, shaking off pasta and water as he did so. She pushed off the doorframe and carefully made her way to where the dishtowel was hanging and tossed it to him. He caught it and gave her a small smile. She returned it and turned to survey the damage.

"How did you manage to get pasta sauce on the ceiling?"

"Is there some up there? I didn't notice."

"Arthur, I thought we agreed,"

"-that I would leave the cooking to you, but its pasta! How hard can it be?"

"Apparently, very hard. You go get changed put on some nice calm music and I'll salvage this and we can have a nice meal, and then go to bed. Sound good?"

"I like it except the fact,"

"That I'm up and about, causing monumental stress to me and the baby," Ariadne finished sarcastically, raising her eyebrows in a disapproving look at Arthur. He simply held up his hands in defeat and turned, and walked out of the kitchen, "I'm just doing my job."

Ariadne rolled her eyes at this back and rubbed at the spot where she felt a small kick, smiling.

"Soon little one, soon."

* * *

Half an hour later they were sitting down, enjoying pasta with lots of butter, and herbs.

"So how's the job going?"

"Well, but the architect's not first class."

"I told you I could have handled this last job. I could've designed the buildings, shown you guys and then be done with it."

"You know how you get though Ari. Late nights, not enough food, large amounts of coffee, it would have been a mistake."

"I know how to monitor myself Arthur, and I would be doubly careful now. I know you know that. This is your extremely over protective side winning over your logical side."

"I have every reason to be over protective Ari. You know how careful we have to be, especially now. Anything could happen and you could go into labor because of it, or miscarry, or,"

"Or everything could go perfectly well. Women are giving birth every day Arthur. They're out giving birth to perfectly healthy babies every minute. Sure, something could go wrong, but that doesn't mean something will. It's like our job in a way. There are so many things that could get messed up, but do they?"

"Sometimes," he muttered. Ariadne shot him a look and continued.

"But they somehow manage to work out, ninety-five percent of the time. I'll be fine, the baby will be fine, the only thing that won't be fine is your hand," she finished jokingly.

"What's going to happen to my hand?" Arthur asked, confused.

"Well, I'm going to crush it to death," she said simply, shrugging.

"When?"

She rolled her eyes. "Think Arthur. Think _really_ hard."

"Oh! Well, I suppose that _is_ my job," he said flushing slightly, as he always did when he didn't get something at first. Ariadne smiled at him before yawning.

"Let's leave the dishes for the morning and go to bed," she said tiredly.

"Alright," he said softly coming over to her side of the table. She smiled up at him as he helped pull her out of her chair. He gave her a gentle, slow, but ever so meaningful kiss, before wrapping an arm around her waist. They made their way around their apartment, shutting off lights, closing blinds and eventually found themselves climbing into bed, after completing their usual routines. Ariadne lay on her side; Arthur lay behind her, his hand rubbing her swollen belly.

"We have a month left," she said quietly.

"I know," he responded, just as quietly.

"Do you think we're ready?" she asked.

Arthur knew she wasn't talking in terms of a crib and clothing, and bottles, and bibs.

"We won't know that till the baby is in our arms and we're out of the hospital. We just have to be ready for whatever comes."

She made a little noise of agreement and turned her head so she could just see him out of one eye and reached. He met her lips and gave her one final kiss before they both fell asleep.

* * *

He hated mail. All it brought him was bills, coupons he would never use, and more bills. But today, when he opened up his mailbox he found a large creamy envelope waiting for him from Paris. He ripped it open there and read it as he made his way to the house.

_You are most cordially invited to celebrate with us _

_ as we welcome_

_**Lucianne Marie Morrison**_

_Born_

_**July 18, 2014**_

_The celebration is to be held at 3:00 PM_

_ at 598 Rue Henri Poincar__é, Apartment 14_

_ R.S.V.P_

Cobb read it and smiled. "Phillipa! James! How would you like to meet your new cousin?"

**I know I should be working on my Harry Potter story right now, but this wouldn't let me go. I figured since Arthur is working so much he wouldn't have time to learn to cook properly. So, even our favorite point man has his faults. This idea also came from another fanfiction I read here but I can't remember the name, so if you are reading this, thank you and I hope you don't think I'm trying to steal your wonderfully creative idea. Reviews mean the world to me!**


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